


after the war is won

by hanzios



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, One Big Happy Family, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:26:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,988
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27543046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hanzios/pseuds/hanzios
Summary: Jackson tries to forget about how weird it is that they’re not fearing getting killed anymore. That there’s no more war to fight, no more people to save. It’s odd how sometimes you just get used to the chaos that genuine happiness begins to confuse you. Jackson doesn’t dwell on those thoughts further; he has the people he cares about most right within his grasp; none of them in any real danger.OR: The remaining humans on Earth go swimming in the lake and having the time of their lives, Clarke and Jackson have a meaningful conversation, Miller and Jackson are cute as heck, and, well... Murphy being Murphy.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Eric Jackson, Emori/John Murphy (The 100), Eric Jackson/Nathan Miller, Gaia/Clarke Griffin, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Octavia Blake/Levitt
Comments: 12
Kudos: 18





	after the war is won

**Author's Note:**

> just a soft lil post-canon fic which satisfied my mackson _and_ claia feels. plus, clarke and jackson never get to interact when i headcanon that they probably saw a lot of each other pre-series. so, here is me compensating.
> 
> enjoy!

“Jax. Jax, wake up.”

Jackson wakes after a few gentle nudges to his shoulder. When he regains consciousness, he realizes he’d fallen asleep with his head against a log near the lake, his neck stiff and hurting. Miller is in front of him, his face blocking the light. But when his eyes focus on the smile on the man’s face, he could’ve sworn he was staring into the sun.

From up close, Jackson can see the youth seeping into his expression; something he hasn’t seen from the man in what feels like forever. Miller has never looked this relaxed, and Jackson can’t help but bask in his light.

Rubbing at his eyes, Jackson pushes himself into a sitting position, Miller moving to crouch in front of him. The doctor hadn’t even realized he’d fallen asleep. All he remembers is taking a little breather as his friends excitedly jump into the lake. He looks behind Miller and finds them there, laughing and swimming and having the time of their lives.

He still can’t get used to this serenity. Not yet, at least.

“How long was I out?” Jackson asks, mind still bleary from his nap.

“A while,” Miller says, smirking. It takes Jackson this long for him to realize that his boyfriend is topless, allowing his still-sleepy eyes to wander down the man’s torso. “ _Hey_ ,” Miller scolds. “Eyes up here.”

Jackson laughs, absently licking his lips. “Sorry,” he says sheepishly.

Miller just rolls his eyes playfully, rising to his feet and offering a hand. “Okay. You _definitely_ need to go for a swim.”

Despite being unsure about the proposition, Jackson takes the hand anyway. He allows Miller to pull him up, marveling at the muscles on his partner’s arm as they contract. _God,_ how’d he get so lucky?

“ _Fine_ ,” Jackson says, mocking a petulant child. Before his nap, Miller had tried to urge him to join them, but he’d declined. He was satisfied just sitting back and relaxing as he watched his friends have fun. It was almost reflex to him – fading into the background. Miller has always been the one to pull him out of it; the one who, from the beginning, put him _first._

Miller beams, walking backwards and tugging at the hem of Jackson’s shirt. “You have to get rid of this first,” he says, biting his lip.

Jackson’s face heats up. “Um, I’m–“

“It’s a crime how much you hide yourself, Jax,” Miller says seductively. His hands have now slithered down under Jackson’s shirt, palms poking at his hipbone. The both of them slowly move towards the lake, Miller pulling Jackson close. “Can’t I just show off my gorgeous doctor boyfriend for once?”

Jackson can’t admit he isn’t endeared. After a sly smile that matches his partner’s and a quick eyeroll, Jackson raises his arms, allowing Miller to take off his shirt. Once Miller has discarded the piece of clothing to the ground, he leans forward and steals a kiss before grabbing Jackson’s hand.

An array of hollers and whistles greet them as they run into the water. Jackson even thinks he hears Murphy’s appreciative “ _Woo, Jackson!”_ when the first of the coldness splash at his torso, wetting his chest.

“ _Cold!”_ Jackson exclaims, his grip on Miller’s hand tightening.

Miller just laughs, hooking an arm around Jackson’s waist and capturing his mouth. His boyfriend is warm, his body radiating so much heat _,_ so Jackson ignores the wolf whistles and kisses Miller back, smiling at his lips.

Once he got over the ice-cold water, Jackson could honestly admit that he was starting to have fun. Swimming with your pants is, of course, not ideal, but it’s not like there’s a bunch of swim trunks at their disposal.

He tries to forget about how weird it is that they’re not fearing getting killed anymore. That there’s no more war to fight, no more people to save. It’s odd how sometimes you just get used to the chaos that genuine happiness begins to confuse you. Jackson doesn’t dwell on those thoughts further; he has the people he cares about most right within his grasp; none of them in any real danger.

They play around for god knows how long, at some point, getting into a competitive game of chicken. (The Arkadians have only learned the game from movies and stories from elders; they didn’t think they’d get to _play_ it in their lifetime.)

Miller dives between Jackson’s legs unannounced and carries him on his shoulders, declaring to battle Murphy and Emori. The couple put up a good fight, but despite his height and build advantage, Emori manages to push Jackson off of Miller’s shoulders and into the cold water.

He doesn’t think he’s laughed like that in a long time.

Eventually, after losing to Octavia and Emori a number of times, Jackson jokingly announces he’s suffered enough for one day. He trudges through to the shore and collapses with his back on a log. He settles in a comfortable position and watches Miller, Murphy, and Jordan play the same game, Raven on his boyfriend’s shoulders. They look like they’re winning, but Hope – bless her heart – is fierce and looks like she’s about to kill someone.

Still a bit cold, Jackson puts on his t-shirt, his pants uncomfortably wet. But he can’t complain; he’s been through worse.

“Enjoying the view?” Clark suddenly appears beside Jackson, moving to sit next to him. Her hair has dried a bit, no longer clinging to her scalp, and wearing nothing but her underwear. He’s suddenly starkly aware of how conservative he looks as compared to all of them.

“More than you know,” Jackson smiles instead, turning his head to their friends. He was right; Hope has managed to topple over Raven and Emori. He can’t help but say, “Is it just me, or is all this weird?”

Clarke snorts. “Can’t believe you’re not trying to _survive_ anymore, huh?”

Jackson nods solemnly. “It feels good, don’t get me wrong, but…”

“It’ll take some time,” Clarke finishes. Jackson looks at her and suddenly realizes all that she’s lost along the way. If he’s being honest, she’s probably lost more than anyone there. Not that it’s a competition, anyway. He just can’t imagine being in her position. Clarke meets his gaze. “We have to find out who we are without a war to fight, that’s all.”

Now it’s Jackson’s turn to snort. “Easier said than done.”

A moment of silence blankets them, but it’s not uncomfortable at all. Jackson has known Clarke longer than anyone here, what with him being so close to the Griffins during his apprentice years. He has stood by and watched her grow up into this brilliant leader that she is, and a part of him is monumentally proud. It feels just like yesterday when she first started hanging around Ark Medical, Jackson helping her with her homework every once in a while. He’d keep her company before Abby came back fro–

_Abby…_

The thought of his late mentor saddens him.

It seems like Clarke is thinking the same thing because she says, “I wish she were here, too.” Jackson swallows, hard. “And Monty, and Bellamy, and Madi…”

He doesn’t know what else to say, the same longing and sadness settling in his chest. Instead, he reaches for Clarke’s hand, placing a warm palm on top of hers. She looks at him, almost shocked, but relaxes. Her eyes are glassy, Jackson notices, its blue hues lighter than usual.

“They’ll always be here, even if it’s not physically,” he says, finally, a small smile on his face. Jackson then shrugs, attempting a friendlier expression. “Besides, we’re all here now, aren’t we? Just because we’re moving on… doesn’t mean we’ve forgotten those we lost.”

Clarke seems to ponder that for a second, a hard expression on her face.

Jackson isn’t even sure he believes his own words, but he tries. God knows he does.

“Hey, why the glum faces?” Niylah walks past the two of them, ready to run back into the water. “We’re supposed to be having _fun._ ”

Jackson finally retracts his hand, giving his friend an assuring smile and a nod. Niylah shoots him a pointed look before she rejoins the others in the lake. He’s about to offer a swim, but when he turns to Clarke, he finds her looking somewhere else.

He follows her gaze to Gaia. She and Indra are on the shore a few feet from Jackson and Clarke, gathering logs to build a fire for the night. Jackson turns to Clarke and notices her softening expression. He recognizes that look; it’s the same look Miller gives him.

“Made any progress?” he asks.

Clarke catches herself, head snapping to Jackson. “What?”

The corner of Jackson’s lips ticks upward. “ _Gaia,_ ” he teases, giving her a soft jab on the shoulder. She merely gives him a pointed look, something so achingly familiar that he tries his best not to think about it.

“There’s _nothing_ between Gaia and me,” Clarke defends. Jackson doesn’t miss the way her face reddens, arms crossing over her chest.

“You’re not exactly subtle,” he says. “And I’m more observant than you think.”

After a beat, Clarke sighs, conceding. “That obvious?”

Jackson smiles. “Perks of fading in the background: your peripheral vision widens.”

That seems to make Clarke frown. “You don’t fade into the background, Jackson,” she says. There’s a small pause before she adds, “At least, not anymore.” Jackson’s chest tightens at the words, unable to decide if it’s a positive or a negative reaction.

“No?” he asks instead.

“Yeah,” Clarke chuckles at his deer in the headlights expression. She must be grateful for the change in topic, but Jackson’s too stunned to steer it right back. “Ever since you got out of that bunker, you changed. For the better, I mean.” She adds the last part quickly, bobbing her head towards his direction playfully.

Jackson turns away, a small smile on his face. He knows what she means. As if on cue, he spots Miller out on the lake, catching his eye even from afar. His partner waves at him, beaming. Jackson returns it with a small one before Miller dives again into the water.

“He’s good for you,” Clarke comments, following his gaze. “And you’re good for him.” Their eyes meet. “I’m glad you found each other.”

Butterflies begin to erupt in Jackson’s chest, threatening to break free of his ribcage. A hundred years of being together and his feelings for Miller has never wavered. In all honestly, it has only grown. He loves him. He’s glad they found each other, too.

“I’m glad I have your blessing,” Jackson lightheartedly says.

Clarke’s smile widens, scooting closer so their shoulders are pressed together. “I know we weren’t really that close, but you were still the closest thing I had to a big brother,” she says, pushing him a little. “I mean, you’re practically an honorary Griffin.”

Jackson chuckles at that but doesn’t deny the swelling in his chest.

 _An honorary Griffin._ God, if Abby could see them now.

As the sun begins to set on the horizon, painting the sky a marvelous marmalade, the two of them continue to talk and talk about whatever come into their minds. Clarke asks about details about him and Miller – asking how they met and when they knew they were in love (She apologizes for not asking sooner; Jackson forgives her since they haven’t _really_ had the time to slow down until this transcendence thing). In turn, Jackson questions Clarke further about her feelings for Gaia – questions she tries and fails to deflect.

The sun is already long gone when everyone starts to come back from the water. There’s a big fire near the shore, Gaia and Indra talking beside it. Clarke then excuses herself to help with their dinner for the night. Jackson can’t help but notice how she floats almost instantly to Gaia’s side.

 _Young love_ , Jackson thinks.

“Hey.” Miller wraps his arms around Jackson’s neck from behind, pressing a kiss into his cheek. He’s wet and cold, his fingers pruned, but Jackson only holds his arms tighter.

“Hey,” Jackson whispers back, turning his head to look at Miller. “Had fun?”

“This is the best day of my life,” he replies, stealing a kiss on the lips before asking, “You?”

“Second best.”

One of Miller’s brows shoot upward, crouched feet moving so he’s now on Jackson’s side, arms dangling on the older man’s shoulders. “ _Okay,_ what _is_ the best day of your life?”

“The day you told me you loved me.”

Miller small smile breaks into a grin, pulling Jackson with his hands to capture his mouth. Jackson enthusiastically delivers, biting his boyfriend’s bottom lip before pushing him gently to the ground. Miller’s eager hands are sliding all over Jackson’s skin, trailing down his clavicle to his chest. A deep desire burns in his lower region, begging to be satisfied.

“ _Get a room!”_

Murphy’s booming voice cuts through the air, ruining the mood for the both of them. Jackson pulls back, laughing, Miller looking less pleased with being interrupted.

“Continue this later?” Jackson asks, nibbling lightly at Miller’s neck.

“ _Mm,_ ” he purrs, palms going up and down Jackson’s biceps. “’Kay.”

Once they’re both on their feet, they begin to walk towards their friends near the fire, hand-in-hand. Most have settled against the logs as Clarke and Gaia continue to cook the fish for everybody. Jackson and Miller sit on the spot beside Niylah, their view overlooking the lake through the fire.

“Look,” Niylah says, pushing her palm in front of Jackson. Like Miller’s, her fingertips are pruned from the water. “I don’t think I’ve had this much fun since… since ever.”

“I’ve imagined going to the beach since I was on the Ark,” Miller says, placing a lax arm over Jackson’s shoulders. “This isn’t exactly a beach, but it’s close enough.”

“Don’t be ungrateful,” Niylah scolds playfully. Jackson chuckles.

“I’m _not!”_ Miller defends. He shrugs before looking into the fire. “I just would’ve liked to surf, is all.”

“God, that’s _all_ you talked about in the dropship,” Murphy enters the conversation from the log perpendicular to them. “One of the perks of getting captured by Grounders was not having to listen to you talk all the time.”

The group laughs, Miller shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

“How do you put up with _that_ , Jackson?” Octavia asks, smirking, her side pressed against Levitt.

“Oh, I don’t,” Jackson jokes, earning him another burst of laughter. He feels Miller squeeze his shoulder, making him turn to him. Jackson gives him a small smile. “Just kidding, baby.”

That makes Murphy whistle. “ _Baby,_ huh, Nathan?”

Miller raises a brow. “Yeah, and what does _John_ call you, huh, Emori?”

Emori grins mischievously at him, sparing a look at Murphy before saying, in a sickly sweet voice, “ _Darling._ ”

Miller laughs as Murphy turns beet red, the color on his skin evident against the fire's orange glow. “Oh, _darling,_ who knew you were so soft?” he teases.

The corner of Murphy’s lips smiles. “I could say the same thing to you, _baby_.”

Jackson doesn’t think his stomach has hurt this much from laughter. This type of happiness is different from what he’s experienced before, because now, there’s no lingering dread in the back of his mind. There’s no more fear, no more anxiety, no more needing to laugh in order to forget.

It’s just pure, unadulterated joy. 

The group continues to talk and share stories over the fire. Once Clarke and Gaia finish cooking, everyone gets a fair share of the meaty fish. It’s more than what they’re used to, but nobody’s complaining. This meal, for all of them, is a huge luxury.

Jackson could _definitely_ get used to this.

They sit there for a long time, throwing the leftover bones into the fire. Jackson settles deeper into Miller’s chest, sleep lulling him. Levitt is in the middle of telling a story about his childhood – or something, Jackson isn’t really paying attention – when Miller gently nudges him.

“You tired, Jax?” he asks into his hair.

Jackson merely hums into Miller’s shirt, tugging him a little bit closer.

“Okay,” Miller breathes a small laugh. He raises his voice, directing it to the group, “I think Jackson and I are gonna hit the hay now.” There is a chorus of goodnights and a suggestive remark from Murphy as the two of them rise to their feet.

Jackson’s pants are dry now, so there isn’t any discomfort as he’s walking, shoulders bumping with Miller. Their temporary sleeping area is only a few meters into the forest, with thin pieces of wood as the foundation and a roof made of leaves. The soil is softer in these parts, at least, but they’ve covered it with trimmed shrubberies to soften it further.

“I can’t wait ‘til we finish our cabin,” Miller comments as the two of them settle in their made-up bed. Jackson tugs on his sleeve, making him come closer.

“With a small porch,” he adds, relaxing into the crook of Miller’s armpit. He yawns loudly before he says, “So I can look out into the lake while you swim all day.”

Miller’s chest vibrates as he laughs. “Yeah, but you’ll join me every once in a while, right?”

Jackson hums in agreement. “Sure beats transcendence,” he says in a low voice.

Miller snorts. “Sure does.”

Jackson grips Miller’s waist tighter, eyes fluttering shut. “I love you, Nate.” His partner smells of lake water and sweat and sun, but there’s something about it that just calms Jackson down. “I’m glad we’re here. I’m right where I want to be, with the one person I want to be with.”

Miller rubs his hand over the back of Jackson’s head, picking at the short strands of his hair. The last thing Jackson hears before falling asleep is Miller’s soft “I love you, too.” Warm and honest.


End file.
